Four years ago, Roger and Wilma planted a gum tree below their bedroom. After three years, it had grown happily, but simply refused to flower.
They had a bit of a chat with it, and threatened it with a big axe if it didn't get its act together within the following twelve months.
Last Sunday, a single flower erupted in the very crown of the tree. Roger excitedly took a photo of it, printed it on a ten by eight glossy paper and raced up to the hospital to Wilma.
She could only move her eyes in response, and in his words "they just shone".
On Monday, after she had gone, he returned home in his sorrow, and stared out the window in silence.
Numb in body and in spirit.
The tree stared back, waving as it did a complete canopy of lush bloom, buzzing with all manner of bird and insect life. New life, vibrancy, where yesterday there had been none.
He knew then that she was truly at rest.
In peace.
2 comments
Nice post. Peter.
I agree. Beautiful picture and words.
Post a Comment